


All Alone

by norton



Category: The World's End (2013)
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Other, Pre-Canon, Sabotage, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 07:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20962958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norton/pseuds/norton
Summary: Did Gary have anything left in him? Did he want to be here anymore?





	All Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a warning this is a fragmented kin fic I desired to make to cope with some weird anxiety I'm having at 3 A.M. in the morning so my apologies if this isn't the best work I'm putting out. The short fic is loosely based off of the Sister's of Mercy song, "I Was Wrong".

Gary picked up his head from his desk, his face felt sticky, realising that may have been drool from his mouth. He didn't know whether he was here, in the present, in this room, this room decorated from floor-to-ceiling with posters of bands that Gary fancied along with small gifts his friend who no longer spoke to him gave him. Photos of their faces were found scattered around the room as if Gary's room was a set for a detective film. Gary couldn't clean it, he felt no desire to.

Gary sat in his boxers on the wheeled chair, hunching his body over the desk as he buried his face in his arms, feeling the raised bumps on his skin brush his face, Gary was never proud of his cuts, his entire body was covered in them, from his chest, to his arms, to his thighs; Gary looked like a red zebra if he never wore his standard amount of long sleeves and jeans.

He reached for his phone, handed down to him by Andy, who felt Gary needed to be caught up in the modern world.

_[Andy: 12 missed calls]_

_[103 messages]_

_[Voice message full]_

_[100+ e-mails]_

Gary longed for some form of human interaction but felt he was undeserving it as he never spoke like a normal person, he has his quirks that he felt were embarrassing, he felt nobody liked him, his old friend group? Gary purposely cut them off.

_Why get attached to people you know are going to leave soon?_

The goth hasn't left his apartment in weeks, his black hair faded into a dusty brown where his angel blond roots were speckled in-between, if Gary didn't cut his hair soon, he'd look like a goth version of Kurt Cobain. Slumped over the desk, still puffy-eyed from another crying fit knowing he cut off everyone from himself, Gary debated on getting dress to pick out more dye, get a drink...wait what did Gary want?

Finally picking himself off the desk like a used piece of gum, Gary flung himself into the chaotic bed of sheets and blankets decorated in the strangest fashion, Gary lied down face-first on a blanket and began to cry again even if his face and sinuses couldn't take another depression related crying fit, Gary missed contact, he missed everyone. He especially missed Andy. 

* * *

Grabbing a handful of tissues, Gary wiped his eyes as he let out another few salty tears to stain his face as they dripped into his legs, he never felt like this, and Gary decided.

His friends hated him, did Gary have anything left in him? Did he want to be here anymore?

Gary went back on to his bed and reached for the second drawer on his nightstand, for something. He shuffled around until he got what felt like a little goodie bag, which it was; to a depressed person.

Inside the bag was a in-package razor, a small bag of coke and what was assumed about 30 high end painkillers Gary took from one of his friends when he stayed at their house.

Gary opened the small bag of coke and snorted the rest of what was inside, he didn't care anymore he wanted this to end, he was tired of feeling like this day after year.

Brushing off the extra dust that fell off his nose like snow, he pushed himself off the bed to his lonely mini-fridge, filled more with condiments then actual substance; Gary took the nearest looking half-filled beer bottle that obviously was filled with water, Gary dumped the painkillers into his palm, he looked at the sad pie of pink, circle-shaped pills with minus signs on them, he wanted this to end, he shovelled the pills into his mouth then drowned them with the slight bitter tasting water, the pills left a little smear of their colour on Gary's palm. He picked up his phone from the desk and looked as his unread notifications, he felt that he would be intruding if he bothered Andy, after all he did yell at him to stay out of his life after doing yet another shitty Gary-type of thing; the drugs starting to take effect as Gary wrote as fast as he could a letter asking for emergency help as he **knew** what he had to do right after he sent this e-mail; hitting send, Gary sat back down on the bed, he took the razor wrapped in its little comfy packaging out of the little plastic bag that held the drugs. 

Gary ripped the razor out like an animal, desperate to get some form of a sign that he was alive and breathing.

He fondled the razor between his index and middle finger, he slit open his thumb by accident while doing this but he didn't care. Resting his arms on his thighs, he shifted them so his wrists faced him.

Gary's arms looked like a painting in the most gruesome way, thin white lines peered through the soft reds and pink lines, darker shades of red placed randomly as if Gary's arms were a Pollock painting of red. Tears dripped off Gary's face as he felt he shouldn't do this but he didn't have any other way of escape from his pain, he's done this for _years_, nobody had an idea that this is what Gary King did in his free time, he wasn't doing drugs, he wasn't smoking a cig, he wasn't shagging; he cut himself to feel some form of enlightenment from his severe depression.

His monochromatic arms were spotted shiny with Gary's tears, he held the razor up, as tears fell down.

Gary looked at the two, vertical, dark maroon lines that ran down his forearms, he's done this before. Tracing the lines with the razor, Gary went to the top of his right hand's wrist and pressed into the soft skin as small droplets of red oozed out, he pressed harder until he felt a tang of pain zap into his arm and sliced right down until he went to just above his elbow, his entire arm dripped of blood and the wooden floor beneath him looked like a murder.

Gary was hyperventilating as he took the razor into his now shaking right hand and rested his left arm on his thigh, the blood dripping from his left arm blended into his thighs.

Gary repeated the motion, as he did on his right arm, and slashed through his left, however this felt more painful and he felt his arm go numb, Gary was sobbing dropped both his arm by his side bleeding onto the bed and the floor.Yelling though his sobs and sniffling, Gary felt he couldn't say anything, he just wanted death at this point.

_I was wrong._

Gary felt his eyes get heavy as he heard sirens from the distance racing to get to his location before he finally had his last breath.

Gary rested himself on the top of his bed, his hands marking the already black bed with darker stains as Gary let out a few more tears before he finally shut his eyes and the sound of feet racing up the apartment complex's stairs

_I was wrong._

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave criticism, I mean I did right this in an hour to vent, its prone to error; leave a comment, and thank you for reading this.


End file.
